Caught in the Web

by Jason R Davis

  She was in her own horror movie now and, like him, she wasn’t holding together well. He needed to go over to her and help her.

  He knew he would always help her. She was his big sister. Maybe not by birth, but she was. Even though he was younger, he knew it would be up to him to help her. He had to take care of her now. He didn’t have Lucy anymore. He had to take care of what he still did have.

  Jason looked back to see Rob yelling at him. Jason hadn’t even realized he had zoned out again, and the sounds of everything around him suddenly came screaming back.

  * * * *

  Rob had heard the crash, and he hadn’t hesitated. Instinct pushed him past the large truck driver, who barely had enough time to turn to the side. He cringed at the rudeness of brushing the man into the door frame, and knew he would be apologizing for it later…if there was a later. Those things outside and the sounds of crashing glass didn’t leave him with much hope.

  His hand lingered at his left side, still hesitating over where his sidearm should be…if he was on duty.

  Damn, he wished he had brought it, and damn the courthouse for not allowing it.

  Yeah, and damn him for not getting that tire fixed and forgetting his cell phone. There were a lot of things that he sure wished he could change for the day.

  As his hand lingered on his left hip, it twitched with the desire to be feeling the familiar cold steel. Not having it made him feel like he did when he took off his wedding ring to do housework. There was just something about not having it that made the weight in that hand feel off and his whole body feel off-center. He knew it was more about the feeling of going into a dangerous situation and not having the weapon he had gotten accustomed to.

  When he first heard the sound, he had expected the front window to be broken. He had to stop himself as he had been turning to run in that direction. The front window was fine, though. No broken glass. As he scanned the bar, none of the windows or any of the bottles were broken.

  He heard a scream from behind him, “You’re not getting in here until the child is in here first. You fucking bastard. You’re just leaving her to die!”

  The sound was from the back of the bar. He hurried back there, dodging around the big man again as he had been trying to hurry back there. The truck driver moved quickly for his size, jumping back as he hurried past.

  Rob moved past him and hurried to the end of the bar. He saw Travis forcing his baby through the window, nearly throwing her at the nurse. The woman was actually blocking Travis from getting in until he did, and with how he had to reach to get his body close to the frame, he had to have been standing on something.

  Denise had the baby, and Rob quickly moved around her. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this limber. Somehow he was moving as though he didn’t have pain from his accident, although he was sure it would come back to pound at him later.

  “You better fucking let me in there!” Travis snapped at them.

  Rob reached out and grabbed the man’s hands. He could see that Travis had somehow managed to climb into the dumpster and was swaying on bags of garbage to get the height he needed to reach the window, but it didn’t allow him enough height to climb in on his own. The redneck had been trying. His hands were cut and there were droplets of blood all over his hands and the bottom window frame. He must have tried to pull himself in the window right after he broke it, and the nurse had obviously been preventing him.

  “Where’s your wife?” Rob asked. His grip was slick and it was hard to hold on. The man kept swaying and losing his balance, and Rob had to fight just to keep him from falling out of the dumpster. Rob wasn’t sure he could pull the man in by himself, but he wasn’t going to if there was a chance they could save the wife. They weren’t just going to leave her out there.

  Travis looked over his shoulder at what was the only car parked in the back lot of the bar. Rob wondered why. He guessed that must have been the guy’s wife’s car, but-

  Then he saw the bloody handprint. It wasn’t easy to read and, in the dim light of the late afternoon, it could barely be seen, but the glint around it made it visible once you stared at it. It was on the driver’s side door, and now he could see another one on the windshield. Someone had been attacked as they had neared the car, and their blood-covered hands had tried to hold onto the smooth, ungraspable surface of the glass.

  “I was holding the kid, and she had the keys. The things got her. Now, please, help me. You got the kid. Do you want to say ‘I told you so’? Do I need to beg?” The man sounded like he was near tears.

  Rob had the guys arm. He was trying to pull him in, but the man wasn’t helping. What the hell was wrong with him? But the man wasn’t looking at Rob. He was looking at Denise.

  Rob turned to look at her, but her eyes were locked on the man outside. There was a cold fire that burned there, something he hadn’t seen in her before, and something he didn’t think she knew she could feel until just now. Her eyes were burning into the man’s soul and she saw something there that Rob wasn’t sure he would ever know. He felt the grip on his arm loosen.

  Rob turned back and saw one of the things coming around from the side of the bar, around from where the man’s wife had been. It was covered in blood and gore, and as it stumbled forward, he could see that fresh blood was still dripping down from what was left of its jaw. Half the man’s face was missing, kind of like it was blown off with a shotgun.

  Another one rounded the corner behind the first one, then another one followed.

  Rob reached out and noticed another pair of hands joining his own. “Come on. Get your ass in here. Those things are getting closer,” Rob yelled.

  “Come on. We’ll grab ya,” Bruce said. They were both talking over each other, trying to soothe the man into trusting them.

  When the redneck turned and saw what they were looking at, he had no reservations. He nearly jumped into their arms and, as soon as Rob could feel his weight leaning in, he pulled back. He didn’t so much hear the crack as he felt it and his right side collapsed from under him. Pain stabbed through him, and he had to fight harder to not give into it. His leg was trying to buckle. Electricity ran in a torrent of constant pain and his toes curled and his shoulders collapsed in on him.

  He didn’t know how he kept from falling. It probably had more to do with his grip on Travis than him being able to stand on his own leg. He remained firm, and they were able to pull the man up until he put one foot on the windowsill, and the other on the glass-covered floor.

  “No, get him out of here. He’s been exposed. He’s probably turning. You can’t let him in here!” Rob heard the bartender yelling. He turned to see the man…what was his name? Rob was pretty sure it was Surly or Sandy, or something like that…come rushing over to them. He ran right up to the redneck and pushed him, forcing him back out the window.

  Travis fell back, stumbling in the dumpster. His feet failed him, and he fell amongst the bags of garbage.

  Rob heard the man sobbing and he tried to feel some form of compassion for him. It wasn’t easy. He had seen how much of an asshole he was. He truly seemed to only care about himself. If Rob did help him in, would he just screw them all over to save himself? Look at what happened to both his wife and the old man. They were both dead out there because they had been dumb enough to listen to that idiot. Leaving like that without any real plan or fully evaluating the situation was just ignorant.

  Rob didn’t have to turn and look to hear the little soft sounds of the baby. The man had saved his baby, so maybe there was something in there was worth saving.

  Travis pulled himself back up. He had struggled, slipping once and falling forward against the front of the dumpster before he was able to steady himself enough to get his hands out again. Rob could see he was about to grab the glass frame of the window, so he reached out and grabbed him. Bruce also reached out again and they heaved up and pulled him in.

  “We need to get something to close this window,” Bruce said as Rob eased Trav
is to the floor.

  Rob stood and they both looked at the pool table. It was too big, too heavy, and there was no way to use it. Maybe they could use the felt cover, though. Was a pool table something they could break apart and just use the top? The damn thing was huge and it looked like it was pretty sturdy. Maybe they could get it taken apart with a screwdriver and a few hours’ work, but would it be strong enough to hold? Rob didn’t think so, and they didn’t have hours to wait while they worked on it, either. The things outside weren’t going to give them that much time.

  There was a loud smashing sound, and Rob looked up to see hands at the window. They weren’t tall enough to really reach inside, and they didn’t seem to have figured out how to climb yet, but they were trying to pull themselves up. Who was to say that, eventually, they wouldn’t just climb over each other, then climb through the window?

  Out of the corner of his eye, Rob saw motion and turned to see that Jason had come around to the end of the bar. He was the owner’s kid. He should know if they have anything they could use. Maybe there was an extra door in back, or maybe they could start taking down the bathroom doors and putting them across the back window. Those doors were light, though. He didn’t think they would hold any better than the top of the pool table.

  “Kid, do you have any wood? Anything we can use to cover the window?”

  He didn’t seem to notice him, though. He was turned away from Rob and was looking at his… Who was that? His sister? Rob knew the boy had lost his younger sister. This one was probably his older sister and she wasn’t holding up that well, either. No, wait. Hadn’t they said something about an aunt?

  His heart wanted to calm himself and try to take it easy on the boy, but there just wasn’t time. He quickly rushed across the room until he was close to the boy’s face and yelled the question again.

  “Yeah,” he finally heard the boy’s soft voice say. It was just a croak, but Rob was sure that with how the boy was just holding on, it was all he could manage. And here Rob was, treating him like shit.

  But lives needed to be saved, and he had to save them. Right? That’s what his job was. To play the hero and save everyone, to save humanity.

  And he was ready to quit.

  “Yeah, what?!”

  “There are boards in back, by the cooler. We use them to set up the buffet over the pool table.”

  Rob rushed past him.

  * * * *

  “Hush, little baby, don’t you cry. Momma’s going away, so you don’t die.” Denise was singing in a low voice as she rocked the baby on her shoulder. The child had been screaming and wailing when the window had first broken, and that asshole was just going to leave her out there. Denise saw it in his eyes.

  The damn man. She knew how bad he had always been. He was one of the many she suspected beat their wives, but she had never been able to prove it, and Jaime was always a firecracker. Between Travis and Jaime, Denise had always felt like the chances of Nadine growing up abused, beaten, and mentally scarred was a near certainty. That was if the child had even gotten a chance to grow up at all.

  Something about the couple had Denise always thinking as though they were the type that would allow something bad to happen to their child, then claim someone had kidnapped her. She couldn’t be sure of it, but it all fit. They were that type. Two parents who should never have had kids because they cared too much about their own skins to care about anyone else.

  When Travis had been trying to come through the window, he hadn’t been bringing the baby in first. The baby was at his feet, and Travis was trying to push himself up into the window. The precious child was barely kept from being trampled on as he kept shifting and changing position. She was nearly crushed by garbage bags and the man was only worried about his own skin and getting himself in through the window.

  Denise had hurried over, grabbed a pool cue, and pointed it right at his face. “You're not getting in here without that baby coming in first.”

  How could she let him in? When she looked at him and the baby, the baby was barely awake and just reaching around in the cute way that baby’s did. Her eyes weren’t even open, and her mouth was opening and closing, as if she was looking for dinner.

  How could this man really be that blind and that uncaring? It didn’t matter. If the baby wasn’t getting in there, she sure wasn’t going to let him in, either.

  The man looked at her with hateful eyes. She could see he wanted to hurt her. He was standing there, not reaching for the baby. No, he was actually thinking about it. He was trying to think about the chances of climbing in, overpowering her, and beating her with the pool cue. She could see the anger. The furrowing of his brow, the intensity in the gaze, the way his pupils dilated at just the thought of violence, and the set of his jaw. He was preparing himself for a fight.

  Then something collapsed under him and his height to the window shortened considerably, nearly losing his balance. He was swaying, stepping back and forth, flailing as he tried to right himself. Denise watched as the dumpster swayed and she could see the child starting to slide. The little girl, the baby who had no idea of the danger around her, gave out a slight giggle as she started to slide down, closer to his feet.

  Denise’s heart flew into her throat and it hurt to swallow back the lump. She stepped forward, reaching out, but she knew it was no good. The farthest she could stretch without cutting her stomach on the large glass shards around the edge of the window was still a good three feet away, and even if she was to clear out the window or cut herself on it, she could see she would still be way too far away.

  Travis recovered, and turned back to Denise. His eyes were wide and pleading. He must have realized that now, with whatever had broken under him, he couldn’t get through the window on his own. Now he was going to need help.

  She wasn’t moving. Her glare stayed firm and she continued to hold the pool cue to the point where its tip was just reaching the tip of his nose. He could stare down its long shaft into her dark, cold green eyes.

  She watched as he quickly bent down to grab the little angel and then extended his arms, the baby held out for her. Her glare didn’t soften, but she reached out, careful to set the cue carefully to the side as she shifted her weight. She couldn’t stand that this man had actually weighed the options before saving his own daughter. She gently took the baby, keeping herself at the edge of his reach. Then once she had her, she turned her back on him.

  “Come on! Help me!” he cried out, but she didn’t listen. She vaguely watched as Rob and Bruce ran to help the man in. Then she watched as they raced to fix something to put over the window.

  None of that really mattered to her now. The baby was with her again. No one was going to harm her.

  “Hush, little baby, don’t you cry, and it will be all right,” she sang.

  CHAPTER 16

  Hammond, Illinois, was a small stop far enough away from any of the interstates, it was lost in a tangled web of country highways. In its early days, it had been a thriving town which had grown quickly. While there was gold out west, Hammond quickly became known for its coal.

  Originally known and christened as “Hardscrabble” because the ground was hard, it hadn’t taken long after its founding to get railroad lines to reach there. First, a train station had been put in and, being just south of Chicago, it allowed quick access for the town to quickly grow. Railroad companies were quick to invest and built up the town and the railways, and the town quickly became a crossroads in the Midwest.

  The town grew quickly, stores and houses were built, and families fled there in flocks. It was a little heaven so close to Chicago that someone who wanted to start a new life and get away from the big city could move to the promised prosperity. “Come to Hammond and mine for coal”. In the time of the great depression, a town offering jobs was in short supply.

  At first, the coal was plentiful, but it was soon discovered that the deposits were not as plentiful as people first thought. Within five years, the coal mines were ru
nning dry, which led to the industry dying away. As it left the town, another one rose in its place. Manufacturing plants that first opened to use the bi-products of the coal had flourished in the town. Once the coal was gone, the plants found new ways to continue. However, without their core source for cheap and readily available resources, many of them were shut down and abandoned.

  Glass production quickly moved into the first of the abandoned factories. Soon, Hammond was known as the leading glass production town, with other available plants being taken over. As Hammond Glass expanded, named after the owner, John Hammond, the town was soon renamed, as he was thought of as the savior of what would have otherwise been a town lost to the crumbling coal industry.

  Hammond was the “Little Chicago of the Midwest”. It was much smaller, but to many of the small towns around it, it was just large enough for the title. Having a larger police force, due to more crime, rowdier crowds, more drugs, seedier bars, and the stoplights, people were used to thinking of it as a dangerous place. However, most city people, people not from small towns, would laugh at the nickname. Those that actually were from small towns would understand that the more crime-ridden towns were easy to associate with the larger ones.

  Having fallen by the wayside of necessity, being that the glass industry was not as needed and not as dependent on one location, Hammond was never again popular enough to have major roads routed near or through there. It was left as the merging point for two old highways that, more often than not, seemed forgotten when it came time for upgrades and repairs.

  * * * *

  Bernard set his tablet down and looked at the two other scientists that were in the Hummer with them. Sarah was in the front seat, looking through documents of her own. Lindsey, a much older scientist, who often could be found hiding Hershey bars in the pockets of her lab coat and was always talking about how she was on a diet to lose the many extra pounds she carried, took up much of the seat next to him. He had worked with her before and, although it was hard to tell with her completely covered in the protective suit they were all wearing, he knew her hair was silver-streaked with a few strands of what her original hair color was. He was sure she still had it back in a ponytail.